


I Deserve No Less

by ladyofreylo



Series: Real Person Fiction [8]
Category: Actor RPF, Adam Driver - Fandom, American (US) Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Adam Driver - Freeform, Daniel Craig - Freeform, Developing Romance, F/M, First Meeting, Fluff, Logan Lucky - Freeform, Love Story, POV First Person, Romance, Some angst, angst with happy ending, film set, real person fiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:02:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25534057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofreylo/pseuds/ladyofreylo
Summary: This is another in my series of Real Person Fiction. Please don't read if you are bothered by this genre.I don't personally know the individuals in this story and it is a work of pure fiction. It is not meant to disrespect any of the real people or deny the importance of their actual lives and real partners, spouses, or friends. It is another way to explore fantasy and storytelling within a specific context.Thank you for reading without judgment.In this story, two individuals, one from above-the-line on a film set and another from below-the-line, meet and have a date, when it is forbidden for them to do so. What happens when they violate their contracts?
Relationships: Adam Driver/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Real Person Fiction [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1777357
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	I Deserve No Less

The man standing near the coffee urn was impossibly tall, and there was no mistaking those big shoulders and thick chest. He’d once described himself in an interview as Sasquatch. Seeing him up close for the first time confirmed the accuracy of that description. He was wearing a Bob Seger shirt and had a green sleeve covering his hand. He was pouring coffee with one hand.

I sucked in a breath and he looked around. His hair was long, down to his shoulders and he sported a beard and mustache.

“Hi,” I said, softly. “Just looking for coffee.” I stared at his shirt.

He took a sip. “It’s a bit better today than usual.” He’d been on set for quite some time already. I hadn’t been there as long.

“Good to know.” I took a closer look at his shirt.

“What? Do I have something on me?” He stroked his shirt with his green-covered hand.

“Uh, yeah…no, no.” I pressed my lips together. “Sorry.” I wasn’t supposed to be getting coffee in this location, but it was early, and no one was around.

“What for?” He took another sip. He raised his brows and moved away from the coffee table. 

I poured myself a cup, added powdered creamer, and stirred. “I heard it’s in your contract that I can’t talk to you.”

He stared at me, like he didn’t remember. “Oh, yeah. That.”

“Yeah, so I’m just going to sit over here and not talk to you. I’m not supposed to be in here anyway.”

He stared at me for a second. “All right. But I don’t mind.”

“Aren’t you getting ready for scenes?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “I’m not up first today. Talk away.”

“Your shirt isn’t authentic. It’s a replica,” I said. “My dad bought one at the Bob Seger concert at Pine Knob. His has some distinct differences.”

He sat down near me, his big thighs spread apart. The chair was too small to hold him. “They had to make me one. No one could find an authentic one in my size. It’s a vintage shirt.”

“My dad’s wouldn’t fit you either,” I said. “He was a small person. I don’t have it with me anyway.”

He looked at me for a moment. “I’m Adam.”

“Joey,” I said. “I tutor Farrah and the Johnston boys. They’re not up yet so I wandered in here to get some coffee.” Farrah and the boys were eleven-year-old actors on the set of _Logan Lucky_.

“And you’re not supposed to talk to me,” he said.

“It’s in your contract.” I took a sip of coffee.

“Huh,” he said. “I have to do it sometimes.”

“Talk to people?”

“No,” he said. “Not talk to people. On set. Especially if there are extras around.”

“Or people like me,” I said. “Who might bother you while you’re trying to work.”

He shrugged. “It happens.” He gazed into his coffee cup like he was remembering some incident. “People want to ask me questions. Most of them I can’t answer.” He looked me in the eye.

“I’m not interested in asking you any questions.” I held up my hands in a gesture of surrender. “I’m just here waiting for kids to wake up. Nothing else. Coffee isn’t ready over there.” I gestured out the door. So-called “below-the-line” personnel had separate catering facilities. We were the extras and staffers.

He nodded and gave me a half-smile. He drank his coffee.

The door banged open and in swaggered a guy with a brush of blonde hair and big blue eyes. He wore a black and white striped prison-style outfit. Daniel Craig.

“Top of the morning, Adam,” he said. “Wearing my jim-jams to work today.”

Adam laughed at the sight. “You look great, Dan.”

“Can’t wait to see what yours looks like, you big tosser.” He brought his coffee over and turned a chair around. He stuck out his hand. “Dan Craig, young lady.”

“Oh, don’t bother, Dan. She can’t talk to us. It’s in our contract,” Adam said.

I took Dan’s hand.

He started laughing. “You don’t say?” He kissed my hand. “What’s your name, lovely girl?”

“Joey _____,” I said.

“Hey, now, no hand kissing,” Adam said. “Go find your own pretty tutor. This one’s mine.”

I stared at Adam, who winked at me.

“Fuck you, Driver. It’s every man for himself.”

“I’ll be sure and tell your wife that,” Adam said.

Dan looked at me and jerked a thumb at Adam. “No respect from this one.”

“Don’t you have to get going?” Adam asked.

“Yes and so do you.” Dan looked at Adam. “Ask her out to the bar tonight, or I will.”

Adam gave Dan a long stare. They had a little contest of wills.

“I think I hear the kids,” I said. “Gentlemen, have a nice day.” I got up and swept around them. “Lovely to meet you.”

It only took a couple of strides for big, tall Adam Driver to catch up to me. “Would you like to go out with us tonight for real?” He squinted down at me, shading his eyes with his hand.

“All right,” I said. “ _The White Horse_? Meet you there.” 

“Yeah,” he said. “Or I could come to wherever you guys go.”

“Oh, don’t do that. You’ll be mobbed.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he said. He looked at my hair in the light. “Is your hair pink?”

“Some of my highlights are, yeah. Why?”

“I just noticed it. Nice. Looks pretty.” He reached up and tugged a strand gently. “Yeah. I like it.”

“Thank you.” I smiled at him.

He grinned at me. “See you tonight.” He turned and walked off.

<>

When I got to _The White Horse_ , it was already started to get crowded with film people. They had commandeered the bar early in the filming, since it was nearby the main location. The place was old and funky and doing a brisk business.

I walked in wearing a short teal sundress and a pair of strappy black sandals—not too high-heeled. Just enough to feel a little taller. I spotted the actors over at a table, hanging out together in their “don’t talk to us” group. Everyone else was scattered around—“above-the-line” people—producers, assistant directors, etc. Us “below-the-lines” met at _Jim’s_ , another mile down the road.

I went up to the group and said hello. Adam had a drink in front of him and was sprawled in his chair, manspread all over the place. I bumped his knee by accident as I looked around for a place to sit. Everyone said ‘hi’ to me or nodded my direction. No one seemed surprised that I was there. Before Channing Tatum could bring over a chair, Adam put his big hands on my hips and drew me down onto his lap.

I squeaked as he nestled my bottom on his thighs. He draped my arm around his shoulder. “You don’t need a chair. You’re tiny enough to sit on me.”

No one said a word. They all went back to talking. I looked into Adam’s warm brown eyes.

“Care for a drink?” he asked.

“Do you think they can make a decent cocktail?” I asked.

He smiled. “Probably not, but I sure can. And I can do it one-handed.”

“What?”

“I can. I play a one-handed bartender. Didn’t you know?”

I became aware of his hands. One was on my thigh, the other on my hip. I imagined him making drinks with his big paws.

“They’re not going to let you go behind the bar and make drinks,” I said.

“Bet they will,” he said. “What would you like?”

“A real Margarita. From scratch,” I said.

He patted my thigh. “Come on, let’s go.”

I got off his lap.

He took my hand and tugged me along. He ushered me onto a bar stool and leaned over to speak to the bartender. “My girl wants a drink. Can I make it for her?”

“Sure thing, Mr. Driver. Come on back.”

A small crowd gathered around, while Adam stood in front of me. Eyes on mine, he unbuckled his belt.

Someone behind me said, “Oh, man. Somebody’s gonna get it.”

I had to laugh as he whipped his belt out of his jeans.

“Come here,” he said, grinning. “Help me.”

Channing Tatum hooted. “Awww, Driver’s gonna get the whoopin.’” He started clapping.

I went over to Adam. He handed me the belt and put his arm behind his back.

“Wrap it around me and buckle it,” he said. “I don’t want to cheat and use my left hand.”

I threaded the belt around him, under his right arm, cinched it tight so his left arm was tied down. With fumbling fingers, I buckled it. He looked down at me.

“Good girl,” he said softly.

I almost melted on the spot. His voice was so low and sexy.

Adam walked behind the bar.

The conversation got a little louder as everyone talked about what was about to take place. Channing remarked that we were all going to get a treat.

The bartender and Adam had a brief conference and the man laid out necessary items: a glass, stainless steel shaker, shot glasses, tequila, Triple Sec, limes, lime juice, syrup, and salt.

Adam started making the drink, one handed, as promised. He used a lime slice to wet the rim of a glass and dipped it in bar salt. He set it aside. Then, in the shaker, he combined Rose’s lime juice, fresh lime juice, a couple shots of tequila and orange liqueur, and a squirt of simple syrup. He put a lid on and shook it up, one handed. He scooped ice into the glass and poured the mixture on top, then garnished it with a wedge of lime. He slid it in front of me. The crowd clapped.

“Taste it,” Adam said.

The group laughed out loud, while I blushed.

I picked up the glass. Someone started a drumroll on the bar and soon everyone was drumming.

I took a sip.

It was delicious. Perfectly balanced sweet, salty, and sour. 

“Oh my God,” I said. “It’s incredible.”

The group cheered. Adam laughed and took a small bow. He unbuckled his belt to slide it back through his jeans. He leaned his elbows on the bar and watched me lick salt off my lips.

“Perfect,” I said to him alone.

The gathered crowd ordered drinks from the actual bartender or wandered back to their seats.

Adam came back around the bar. Dan Craig leaned over as he got his whiskey on the rocks. “Fucking show-off.” He cackled and fist-bumped Adam’s shoulder.

I took another sip of the margarita. Adam reached out and thumbed salt off the corner of my mouth. He licked his thumb. Then he glanced around the bar briefly.

I looked around, wondering what he was doing. When I gave him a questioning look, he smiled and leaned in, hand on my neck, thumb touching my chin. His lips touched mine softly.

“Yum, salty,” he said.

I licked my own lips while he watched. Then he leaned down again for another soft press of his mouth.

“Come on, girl, drink up,” he murmured against my lips. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

I sucked down the rest of the drink.

<>

We jumped in a rental car. He started the engine but stayed in the parking lot.

“Would you like to come to my hotel?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“I don’t want any confusion here,” he remarked, gazing at me. “I’d like to spend the night with you.”

I had to smile. It was quaint and sweet. I was kind of expecting him to say he wanted to fuck me.

“Okay,” I said. “I’d like that, too. But I don’t have to stay over if that’s too weird. I can grab a cab back to my motel, if you want me to.”

He stared at me. “Don’t say that, Joey. Don’t fucking let me off the hook. You should make me be a decent guy and feed you breakfast tomorrow. Unless you don’t like me.”

“Why would I choose to go home with you if I didn’t like you?”

“Beats the fuck out of me.” He paused and put the car in gear. “Maybe you could claim to have fucked me. Put it on the internet or something.”

“I signed an NDA just like you, Adam. I can’t do that. Besides I’m not the kind of person who keeps a list of celebrity fucks. In fact, I don’t have any celebrity conquests.”

He looked over. “Yeah, I can tell. You seem like a sweet hometown girl, like the ones I met back in Indiana.” He tugged a lock of my hair. “Except for the pink hair. Most of the girls would’ve gotten in trouble for dying their hair that color.”

“It’s a good thing I’m a grown person, then.”

He gave me the side-eye at a red light. “I’m enjoying it, that’s for sure.”

<>

He drove to the fanciest five-star downtown hotel I’d ever seen. The thing was a huge palace crouched in the middle of all the action, with a giant fountain, lights, looking like Disney World. He drove around back to an out-of-way spot and parked by a small door. A security guard sat in a car watching the entrance.

Adam waved at the guy who waved back. He pulled out a key card and opened the door. Another guard sat inside the door at a desk. Adam said good evening to him and took my hand. I smiled at the guard as we walked by. The private elevator started moving and Adam tucked me up under his arm. He tilted my chin up with one big hand and leaned down to kiss me. His tongue traced my lips.

“Um, still salty sweet,” he said and came back for more. His tongue slipped into my mouth fully. My knees went weak and I reached up to touch his face.

The elevator door opened, and Adam nudged me out into the hall. He opened another door with the key card and we walked into a luxurious suite. It was huge with big plush pure white couches and high-end fixtures. His laptop was out on the mahogany desk with a few papers scattered around. His script lay open.

He locked the door behind us and turned to me.

“Still want to stay with me?”

I nodded. “Thanks for checking, though. You’re a good man.”

He sighed. “I don’t know about that. Just don’t want to get in trouble.” He walked over to me.

I slid my hands up his arms. “Well, if you’re a bad man, you better show me.”

He laughed. “Hell, yeah, girl. Come on.” He swooped me up in his arms and carried me to the bedroom. He sat me on the edge of the bed and sat at the foot. I stuck my hands in his long hair and stroked the silky strands. He growled a little and put his big paws on my knees. He slid them up my thighs and found my scrap of lace underwear. He pulled them down, right out from under me.

I gasped as he yanked them off over my shoes. He pushed me backwards and opened my legs wide. I didn’t stop him as he pushed my dress up and pulled my hips downward. He settled his shoulders between my legs and nuzzled up one thigh. His beard was incredibly soft as he brushed my inner thighs. He gently nipped me, then licked the spot as he moved up. Then he blew a soft breath on my core as he passed by. He worked his way down my other thigh, then back up again.

I was lost in the sensation. His nose touched the fur between my legs, and I heard him take a breath. He was drinking in my scent. I almost lost it then and there.

I was distantly aware of making soft noises, then louder ones, as he went in for an experimental lick or two of my dampening folds. I wanted more, so much more. But the man was in no great hurry. I could tell he liked this part, that’s why he started here. He wanted to eat me out.

And then he did, full on. He buried his face and sucked everything, licking and gently biting. Except for the one place I needed him.

I made a strangled sound. I heard it. I would have been embarrassed by such a needy noise with anyone else. But I didn’t have any room or inclination to care. Maybe I’d never see him again in my whole life. What did it matter if I made noise?

I begged suddenly. It popped out without warning. A soft “please” was wrested from my lips.

“Please what, baby?” he whispered.

“Please move up…” I was beyond reason, beyond anything but need for him.

“Up where?” he urged. “Tell me where you need me.”

“You know. You know,” I panted.

His thumbs opened me wide.

“A little dirty talk, baby, give me the word and I’ll do it.”

I moaned inarticulately. “Clit,” I said. “Lick it.”

“Yes, girl,” he whispered.

He moved his mouth up to swirl his tongue around it. And he sucked it in his mouth.

And my whole body jerked with the intensity of the orgasm. I had never come like that in my entire life. I didn’t know what else I did or said as I locked into the sensation and rode it, hot and hard.

He stayed with me until I tried to push him away. I was too sensitive, too swollen to handle even the smallest flick of his tongue.

He unlocked his lips and kissed my thighs softly. Even that had me mewling and trying to crawl away. He held me down.

“Don’t go anyway, baby,” he said. “There’s much more for you.”

I breathed. “I don’t think I can take another one like that.”

“Mm,” he said. “It was good?”

I looked at him and felt a blush rising when I met his eyes. I realized who had his face between my legs. Jesus. His celebrity status came rushing back into my consciousness. I felt exposed and wanted to close myself up.

He was waiting for my answer.

I sat up and tried to close legs. He let me go. “Yes, it was unreal,” I said. “So, so…. Unbelievable. But I’m good. You want me to do you?”

“No,” he said. “You’re not done yet.”

“I can be,” I said. “I’m good with one. That’s fine.” I tugged my dress back down.

He grinned at me. “Getting shy now? Not much point in that.”

“Um,” I said.

He tugged one shoe off my foot. “Look at these little fuckers.” He held one up. “I could hang this from my rearview mirror.” He pulled one of his shoes off. The difference in size was ridiculous. “I wear a 14. What’s this?”

“A five,” I said.

He shook his head. “Holy shit, you’re tiny. Let’s see all of you.” He pulled off another shoe and then crawled up beside me.

I pulled my dress over my head. He unclasped my bra. “Come on, stand up, babe. Let me see how little you are.”

I stood in front of him and watched him look at me. “So perfect, though.” He ran his hands over my shoulders, sweeping down over my breasts. “These are nice,” he said and drew me in. He dipped his head and captured a nipple in his mouth. He sucked and I tried not to fall down. He pulled me on his lap and arched me back so he could take each nipple in turn. A big hand brushed down my belly to the fur between my legs. His thumb found my juice and he wet it. Then he circled my clit while sucking me. I almost fell off his lap but he caught my backward sway and held me tight.

I felt the swirling desire ramping up again. I was spiraling.

He stopped. “Jump up, babe. I want to be inside you so badly.”

He pulled his clothes off in a rush, dick bobbing against his belly. I got a quick look before he went to the dresser to retrieve a condom. He had a fine ass, as good as it looked in his TV show. Not too round, not too flat. Just a perfect peach. I wanted to touch him.

He walked back over and ripped the condom open. I reached out and took his dick. It was long and thick, with a nice rounded head. Beautiful.

“Can I suck it?” I whispered.

“For a minute,” he said, standing in front of me. “I’m not going to last if you do it for too long.”

“Can you go again?” I asked. I looked up at him.

“I don’t know. I’m not in my twenties anymore.” He looked regretful. “I’d have fucked you all night back then.”

“We have all night,” I said. “We could try.”

He smiled at me and stroked my hair. “Yeah, that’s true. But I want to come inside you. And I want you to come with me inside you.”

“Just a taste, then.” I licked him. He groaned and threaded one hand through my hair. I sucked him and he dropped the condom and added his other hand. He was trying not to thrust himself into my mouth, which was such a gentlemanly thing. Many guys didn’t care if they fucked a woman’s face. This man stood still and let me do the work.

He pulled out after a few more long licks and gave a shaky chuckle. “Shit.” He took a breath. “So good.” He rolled the condom on and sat on the edge of the bed.

I crawled up on him. I helped him line himself up and then pushed down so he slowly entered me. We both groaned as he bottomed out. I squeezed him and he moaned softly.

We moved together, pulling out, then pushing back in slowly. He filled every part of me that needed filling. I didn’t even realize how much I wanted it. Usually, dick didn’t mean that much to me. It was nice but wasn’t that much of a requirement. With this one, I might change my mind. He went deep and it felt like he was made to fit inside me.

His thumb found my clit again and made tiny circles. That did it. I leaned forward and rested my head on his shoulder. I moved to get closer to his thumb, while he teased me with lighter and deeper pressure until I tried to grab his hand. I heard him chuckle low in my ear and whisper that he needed me to come.

I did, harder and richer than the last one because he was inside me.

With a low moan, he tossed me back on the bed, pulled my legs up around his waist, and pushed into me hard. I grabbed his sweet ass and urged him to go deeper. His shout was muffled in my hair as he came.

I stroked his back and shoulders as he nuzzled my ear and kissed my neck.

It was true that indeed we had all night. Adam kept me awake with long, slow kisses. He stared into my eyes and made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. He played with my long hair, picking up each separate wave to inspect the colors. 

“Pink, purple, gold, peach, brown, blonde.” He counted the colors. “You have so many different hues going here. I didn’t think I would like weird colors, but this is pretty.” He gazed at me. “It looks like a skein of yarn, like that multicolored stuff my sister used to buy and try to make scarves with.”

He ran a finger down my nose. “Some freckles, just a few. Creamy skin, so pale. Pink lips. Nice.” He kissed me again.

“You’re doing an inventory? Want me to do you?”

“Oh, shit no,” he said. “Nothing to say.”

I sat up. “Not true, Adam. Definitely not.” I touched his hair. “You have the best fucking hair. Thick, soft waves. God, it’s gorgeous. I love it long like this.”

He laughed. “Some days I’m okay with it long, some days, I’m ready to cut it off.” He tucked a strand behind his ear. “But I got to keep these babies covered.”

“Why?” I touched his ear. “They’re beautiful.”

He rolled his eyes and took my hand. He kissed it. “They’re big and stick out.”

“You got teased a lot?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Now I’m just fucking covering them up.” He sighed. “All right. So big ears, big nose, big lips, no chin. Fucking moles all over the place. What else?”

“No, no. You have a big face so you need strong features. It all looks good on you. The beauty marks add character. Your brow ridge works with your nose. Your lips are sexy as fuck. What’s not to love?” I traced his lips with a finger. “And the little beard and mustache make everything better. Rub that all over me.”

He leaned down and nuzzled my neck. “All right.” He rubbed his face down my breasts and belly and suddenly he was back between my legs.

I gasped. “Didn’t you get enough earlier?”

He raised his head and gave me a fierce look. “Never enough. And I know you didn’t get enough, not yet.”

“I did. I swear.” I laughed and batted at him.

He held my hands down and started licking. His tongue was soft and persuasive as hell. I opened my legs wider and urged him on until he made me come yet again.

We slept later, thoroughly exhausted from trying out every position we could think of and using up another condom or two. He woke me in the morning for another sweet, slow fuck from behind, his fingers getting me off while he pushed into me. We slept again curled together.

Thank goodness the kids were on set filming and Adam had no scenes. Neither of us had to be anywhere until later in the day.

Adam ordered us breakfast and we talked about meeting up again after work.

“Let’s have dinner together, just us,” Adam said.

“Up here?”

“Yes.”

I smiled at him and he winked at me.

He drove me back to my little cheapie motel. He kissed me passionately before I got out of the car.

“See you later,” I said.

“I’ll come here and get you when we wrap for the day.”

<>

As I was preparing to leave for the set, there was a knock on my door. I opened it and allowed Marsha, my direct boss, to step into the room. She eyed me with a bit of distaste.

I raised my brows at her expression. “What’s up?”

She sighed. “Much as we like your work with the kids…” She paused and gave me a significant look. “It has come to our attention that you went home with a principal actor last night.”

I opened my mouth but nothing came out.

“We really can’t have that going on here. Not with a principal. We’ll need you to vacate the premises, effective immediately.”

“No,” I said. I was in total shock.

“Yes,” she answered. “You have a decency clause in your contract that states we can terminate you for any indecent behavior during the filming process. This qualifies. A whole group of people saw you kissing a principal actor at a public location and then you left with him. Security reports that you were seen in the hotel with him, going up to his room. You were seen leaving with him this morning as well.”

I stared at her. “Why is that a crime?”

“It’s indecent behavior and you’re working with children on set. Also, the principal has a no-contact clause in his contract. We could terminate you for talking to him, much less…” She didn’t finish.

“I need to speak with…”

“No, you don’t,” she interrupted. She held out her hand. I picked up my lanyard with the pass on it and gave it to her. I handed her the set of books I was using with the kids. My eyes blurred with tears. I’d never been so ashamed in my entire life. I just hadn’t been thinking. I’d been caught up in the fantasy of being with this beautiful man who seemed to like me. 

Well, he did like me. I needed to speak to him.

Without my lanyard and without his phone number, I was completely blocked.

I packed my bags and checked out of the motel. The production wouldn’t pay for another day and the motel booted me off the premises. The front desk manager told me the motel was reserved for persons associated with the film production only. I couldn’t even rent a room for the night. 

The car rental agency showed up during my negotiations and said they’d drive me to the airport. They were taking the car back, too. It was tied to the production and again I wasn’t eligible. I rented another car instead of going to the airport. I drove back to the motel to wait for Adam.

By midnight, the motel manager asked me to move the car off the premises and I gave up. I drove myself to the airport and booked a morning flight out.

I was devastated.

He had given up on me, too. I realized then that I had just been a one-night fuck.

And, you know, I already knew that about the whole encounter. I knew it wouldn’t last more than the location shoot itself, which was scheduled to be done soon anyway.

I knew I’d probably never see Adam again and it was totally over and done with.

But I thought I would have a couple more nights with him. I would enjoy time more time with him, know our ending date, and slowly say goodbye. Not this slut-shaming cut-off out of nowhere…

Not the miserable mess I found myself in, where I did a walk of shame on every fucking level.

I felt sick.

<>

A week later, my apartment intercom buzzed. I answered.

A low voice rumbled through the speaker. “Joey, buzz me in. I’m out here with a lot of people walking by.”

Adam. I caught my breath and released the lock.

Thirty seconds later, he barreled through my door, put his hand on my shoulders, and pulled me into a bear hug. His lips were in my hair.

“I’m so, so sorry, baby. So sorry,” he said, rocking me.

I nestled against his shirt, feeling sick and weird and freaked out all at once.

He picked me up and carried me to the couch. He tucked up against him and kissed my face. He thumbed tears out of my eyes. “Fuck,” he said softly.

I stared and reached out to touch him. “Adam?” His hair was cut short and he had no beard or mustache. 

“Yeah, I know.” He ran a hand over his short hair. “I have another film role starting up. I had to cut it.”

“Wow,” I said. “I didn’t expect that, and I didn’t expect you to find me.”

He huffed. “Why the fuck not?” He touched his non-existent mustache. “I’ve never been so furious. Well, I have, but not recently.” He paused. “I threw a fucking fit, but there wasn’t anything to be done. The shoot was almost over and no one was going to be fired.”

“I had a decency clause,” I whispered. “You couldn’t have done anything.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know, but still… It took me a few, but I found you.” He held up his cell phone with my old number in it. “Your cell number was changed recently.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Had to. I was getting calls.”

He put his head back and blew out a breath. “Of course. Goddammit. I’m sorry.”

“They stopped,” I said. “It’s okay now.”

Adam tapped his phone. “I finally got your other number, but then I waited until I was finished with the shoot to come here. I decided I should come in person.”

He stopped to gauge my reaction. “Thanks, I appreciate it,” I said. “It’s all right.”

He turned toward me. “No, it’s not fucking all right. I mean, yeah, I guess. I’m just so….” He growled in frustration. “They told me you had gotten on a plane. Then I find out you hadn’t, and you’d been waiting for me. Someone saw you in the parking lot and happened to mention it and then one of the fucking kids told me. Fuck. I lost my shit.”

I stared at my hands.

“Do you understand that I never, ever meant to imply that you are at fault somehow?” He pressed his lips together. “You’re a good person, a sweet, wonderful girl, and what happened was wrong. It was my fault. I got you fired and I’m sorry.”

I looked into his eyes. “A whole bunch of people think I’m a slut. I never should’ve gone home with you.”

“I should’ve known better, too.” His eyes showed his remorse.

“Neither of us were thinking clearly.”

He smacked his hand down on my couch. “I’m so fucking furious, though. You know shit like that happens all the time on film sets. I don’t have any idea why you got fired. Why they decided to make an example of you in particular. People sleep with each other. It happens and nobody says one fucking word.”

I shrugged. “Just one of those things. It happens to women.”

He looked at me. “Yeah, I know it does. That’s part of why I feel so bad. They can’t do shit to me, so they take it out on you. So unfair.” He sat for a moment without speaking as we both pondered the sad ways of the world. “Can I make it up to you?”

I didn’t want a fucking consolation prize. “You don’t have to. You don’t owe me anything. It’s not… I do other things besides tutor. It wasn’t really my livelihood anyway.” I wanted him, but I felt like I couldn’t say it. I gazed into his face. “I miss your mustache… and your cute little beard.”

His lips quirked up. “When I done filming this thing, I can grow them back for you.” He paused. “Maybe. Depends. Might have to film something else. But I sometimes have weeks off in between and can grow them out.”

“Okay,” I said softly. I didn’t want to depend on seeing him again. It didn’t seem that likely.

He leaned in and kissed me. “I owe you dinner,” he said. “I owe you a lot of things for all the bullshit and humiliation you had to go through because of me.” He stood up. “Get your shit. I’ll make you a Margarita.”

“Where are we going?”

“My place.”

I stared at Adam for about five seconds. He smiled at me and held out his hand. 

I grabbed my bag, shoved my phone in it, and took his outstretched paw.

Why not let him take me to his place? Why not allow him to make it up to me? Why not drink a homemade Margarita with him? 

Why not watch him lawyer up and get me some back pay and an apology? Why not walk the red carpet at his side for the premier and enjoy Channing and Daniel’s good-natured teasing? Why not lie nestled in his arms as we celebrated our anniversaries together? 

I deserved no less.


End file.
